


Red and (the) Green (eyed monster)

by cheers88



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheers88/pseuds/cheers88
Summary: For, the top tier, number one persistent problem that was ruining Lily's good cheer was not her sister, her surly ex-mate, or even the looming prospect of a wizarding world turned upside down. None of these things seemed quite as insurmountable as her massive, soul-crushing, utterly foolish crush on the Head Boy. L/J Xmas fun - Two shot





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Christmas fun! Part 2 coming soon :)

Lily Evans had always, always loved Christmas time. She loved it despite that, with red hair and green eyes, she had pretty much been a living, breathing form of Christmas her entire life (as she been reminded, _plenty_ , by every living, breathing boy in primary). She’d loved it the winter her father had been laid off and her mum had enlisted her and Petunia into crafting homemade gifts for family and friends. She’d loved it even when, only seven and still naive to her magic, she had accidentally set their tree on fire after Petunia had told her Father Christmas wasn’t real (mum would still insist it wasn’t her, but _come on_ , trees didn’t just spout flames out of thin air).

 

Lily Evans had loved Christmas time for seventeen years of life...that is, until December of 1977. In December of 1977, Lily was not feeling particularly happy or hopeful about the holiday season. And to the casual observer of her life, there were quite a few reasons as to why this could be.

 

For one, there was the letter her sister had sent to her on December 1st, coincidentally the _first_ letter she had received from Petunia since their shared hamster had died back in second year (though, she wasn’t sure she wanted to count “Pebbles is dead. I thought Miss All Powerful Sorceress would like to know. Don’t write back.” as an official correspondence). This particular letter somehow managed to be worse than its predecessor, as it pompously announced Petunia’s engagement to Vernon Dursley. Lily had been unfortunate enough to get to know her sister’s boyfriend over the summer and had grown pretty confident in her assessment that he was one of the most vile men on the planet.

 

Secondly, there was Severus. Her former best friend had quickly devolved this year from pleading his absolute regret to regarding her with bitter contempt. Lily wasn’t quite sure as to what had sparked this change, and frankly she no longer knew enough about Severus’s life to make any educated assumption. It wasn’t as if she was still holding onto hope to revive the friendship, but she expected at the very least to receive some form of respect from him. It was nearly impossible for them to exist in Slughorn’s NEWT-level Potions class without being at least civil, but Severus seemed determined to test that theory.

 

And lastly, there was the most obvious reason of all:  the fact that she was waking up almost daily to headlines in the Daily Prophet that spoke of mysterious disappearances, terrible deaths and a growing hysteria. They could, at the very least, Lily thought, name the man who was causing all of this terror. Everyone knew who he was, and what he was trying to do, and _who_ he was trying to do it to. Even if they couldn’t speak his name, couldn’t the cowards at least bloody _write_ it? That was, decidedly, not very merry.

 

All this to say that the casual observer of Lily Evan’s life would not have been able to guess why she having a terrible holiday in December of 1977 (and she would have very much liked to keep it this way, thank you very much). For, the top tier, number one persistent problem that was ruining Lily’s good cheer was not her sister, her surly ex-mate, or even the looming prospect of a wizarding world turned upside down.

 

None of these things seemed quite as insurmountable as her massive, soul-crushing, utterly foolish crush on the Head Boy.

 

It had happened slowly at first, so slowly that her self preservation instincts—the ones that tend to kick into overdrive when one’s best mate slanders them in front of the whole school—never picked up on the warning signs.

 

She’d started to warm to him last year, not quite so much to be mates but enough to retire exclusively calling him “Potter”. Enough, at least, that when he’d written her to tell her he had been made Head Boy, her reaction hadn’t been “what the bloody fuck is happening” (as he had predicted in said letter), but surprisingly “Hmm...I suppose I could see it.”

 

Since then, it had been one surprise after another. Because it turned out there was a lot she didn’t know about James Potter, after all, and the more she learned, the more she liked. Sure, she could make the excuse that a lot of their time together was mandated by their duties as Heads, _but_ that certainly wouldn’t explain all the other times she now sought out his company.

 

You see, she’d begun to notice things. Like his laugh...it was fucking infectious. She could be in the worst mood, and all it took was hearing James Potter’s loud, effortless, completely-devoid-of-self-consciousness laughter to break the spell. The better she knew him, the more Lily realized that the boy was just rather predispositioned to think that life was grand. Could it be positively irritating at times? Of course. But it also gave him the most exceptional capability for joy of anyone she knew. And, yes, it was that same easy nature and blatant self assuredness that used to drive her bonkers, but 17-year-old James Potter was no longer careless or cruel with his fortune. His ego had always been a blinding flash, but now he wore confidence like a favorite old jumper.

 

It wasn’t just his laugh, though. It was...well, it was increasingly _everything_ . Like, his footsteps...had they always been so distinct? Even with her back turned in the common room, she would know exactly when it was James coming through the portrait hole. And his handwriting was just so _neat—_ so neat, in fact, that one day she’d commented on it and he’d divulged that his mum was keen on calligraphy, and Merlin she didn’t even know handwriting _could be_ endearing but it _was_.The boy was also surprisingly obsessed with Muggle culture. He loved talking to Lily about Muggle bands he’d discovered, and their new favorite game to play during patrols was a James Potter original, Muggle or Befuddle, in which Lily would have him guess which was real between an actual Muggle invention and utter rubbish like “a telephone vacuum” (yes, she’d somehow won that round, though James had argued that it could very well be pending copyright).

 

Oh, and to make it all so much worse, there also was this maddening tendency she felt to impress him (she especially hated that). She’d find herself applying lipstick before Head meetings, or fluffing up her hair before class. One day James had complimented her grandmother’s barrette and she’d pinned it in her hair every day for a week.

 

It was at once rather exhilarating and also entirely awful. It was making her seventh year and ruining her life. Well, all right, not her life (she was, after all, well aware of that whole wizarding world turned upside down business). But definitely, _definitely_ her holiday season.

 

For instance, there was today.

 

It was a Saturday morning in early December and she had been awaiting his arrival in the Heads’ office for approximately four minutes. Now, had Lily ever been a stickler for punctuality in the past? Eh, not particularly. But if you were to ask her another pointed question, say, whether or not she was desperately grasping at straws to find anything even remotely reproachable about James Potter these days? Well then, a witch would plead the fifth, or perhaps temporary insanity.

 

Alas, at approximately four minutes and thirty three seconds past the 9 am meeting time the two had agreed on, James practically jogged through the open door, shirt rumpled and tie strewn around his neck, a covered cup in each hand and a small bag tucked underneath his chin.

 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Practice ran late, which meant I had to deal with Sanchez whinging to me about how practice went late, and then Gudgeon ate all our table’s muffins _again,_ so I was just going to nick a few from Hufflepuff and then—.” He stopped, a smirk sneaking its way across his face. “ _And then_ I remembered I was Head Boy, and _Head Boys do not steal_ , so I definitely _did not_ take them from the Hufflepuff table and yet somehow procured them anyway. The end. Anyway, muffin?”

 

He had placed the cups on the desk in front of her and was now dangling the open bag under her nose.

 

“You’re just trying to make me an accessory to your crime.”

 

“They’re cranberry streusel.”

 

“Consider yourself accessorized.” She nabbed one of the muffins out of the bag. “And the cups?”

 

He quickly rounded her, settling into the chair on her right. “One is hot cocoa and the other is the strongest tea known to Muggle and wizard-kind that only one human I have ever met could possibly stomach.”

 

She grinned, snagging the latter with a chirp, “Thank _you!_ ”

 

He nudged her leg with his knee, allowing his limb to stay pressed up against hers underneath the table. “Honestly, Evans, you have such little faith. Give a bloke some credit.”

 

 _Gahhh, the touching._ She straightened.

 

“Well, look at you—you’re a mess!” She meant to sound sterner, and it aggravated her quite a lot how soft and endeared her voice came out. He was a very _cute_ mess, after all. She was meant to be annoyed about something, right? Ah, yes: “And...and _late_.”

 

It also aggravated her quite a lot how heavily she tended to lean toward this stodgy, not-very-Lily version of herself whenever he got too close these days. It was just that they were too close _all the time_ now, and adding a layer of separation—something that kept them as opposites, reminded her that he had once just been _Potter_ and not _James—_ was really all that was keeping her wits about her.

 

“But I brought you a pastry. A pastry with _streusel_.” He was pouting.

 

“All right, all right.” She drawled. “I suppose it’s fine.”

 

“Like, legitimately fine? Or ‘poke-needles-in-your-Potter voodoo doll fine?”

 

She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “On the one hand, I am getting fairly rusty with the voodoo craft these days. But it _would_ be a bit mean to saddle Madam Pomfrey with your whinging so close to the holidays. Hmm, tough call...”

 

“Rather nice not feeling those phantom pains anymore, if I have any say that is.”

 

Before she could retaliate, a polite tapping interrupted them.

 

Genie Hughes stood at the door, as bright and shiny as if an actual ray of light followed her around wherever she went. Mary had once called Genie a tart in fifth year, but it had coincided too neatly to Genie’s visit to Hogsmeade with Mary’s ex-boyfriend, Tim Davies, for Lily to give it too much merit. Bubbly and popular, and Ravenclaw Quidditch captain to boot, Genie was the type of girl who could easily inspire envy and misplaced malice. She’d never bothered Lily, though, who had always found her to be perfectly sweet and an affable confidante among her fellow prefects.

 

“Hi, Genie,” Lily greeted. “Everything all right with your schedule this week?”

 

“Yup, all squared. Everything has been so mad this year and you both have been doing such a nice job accommodating everyone. I _really_ appreciate it.”

 

Lily was about to respond in kind when the other girl continued.

 

“That’s actually not why I’m here, though.” Her face flushed a bit, and her smile grew wider as she reached into her jacket pocket. “James, you left your gloves on the pitch this morning. I tried to catch up with you, but you were in such a hurry. My team would consider their return high treason, so let’s keep this hush hush, yeah?”

 

The Head Boy let out a good natured laugh, to which Genie Hughes beamed.

 

It turned out Genie’s bright smile was decidedly less charming when it was focused on James Potter.

 

“Well, ten points to Ravenclaw for good sportsmanship,” James had stood to retrieve his gloves, but swiveled back to Lily when he’d reached the door. “I can do that, right?”

 

Lily forced a smile. “Are you going to ask me that every time?”

 

“We’re only in December; I’m sure by April or so I’ll be over it.” He turned back to Genie to accept the proffered glove. “Hughes, with enemies like you, who needs friends? You’re a gem.”

 

If at all possible, Genie’s smile grew even wider. “I’d hardly call us enemies. I much prefer ‘well meaning competitors who are actually quite fond of one another.’”

 

And before she could curate a more preferable reaction (and truly, even scalding herself with hot tea would’ve been preferable), Lily found herself letting out a very audible “mehhhhh”.

 

James and Genie both turned to look at her, the latter looking truly quizzical while her co-Head was raising an amused eyebrow.

 

“Sorry?” prompted Genie.

 

“I...well, speaking on behalf of my house, I have to consider our rank for the Cup this year, and I just would consider you...and when I say you, I don’t mean just _you_ , Genie, but the whole Ravenclaw team...maybe even _all_ Ravenclaws in general...as, er, the enemy.” Lily paused for a moment, forcing her lips into what she hoped was an affable smile. “But that’s just my viciously competitive side talking, carry on…”

 

And of course Genie, being the bloody delight that she was, held up her fists and made a good natured jab in Lily’s directions, laughing all the while. “Watch out, Lily, we’re coming for you!”

 

James laughed, too, but he was still eyeing her curiously.

 

_Shit, shit, shit._

 

Genie continued to linger  in the doorway, her body angled toward James. Lily noticed her sweep a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hands were fidgeting.

 

“I’m _so_ looking forward to Slughorn’s Christmas party, aren’t you? I’d hate to ruin the surprise, but I heard a rumor that—.”

 

“Glynnis Griffiths is coming?” James looked doubtful. “She hasn’t made the rounds in _ages—_ I highly doubt Sluggy has lured her out from the blissful repose of retirement to rub elbows at his annual brown noser’s bash.”

 

Lily made a noise of exasperation from her chair. “Don’t let him fool you, Genie. He’s just being dramatic since he knows he has to attend this year. _Professor_ Slughorn actually has many incredibly talented friends and acquaintances, so I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she was coming.”

 

“See? I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I would just _die_ if I met her. _”_ Here, Genie, paused for a moment and briefly glanced toward the floor. “I hear that people are bringing dates. Are either of you bringing someone?”

 

Lily swallowed, a wave of hot discomfort swarming her senses.

 

James spoke first, his voice mercifully light. “I’d figured Evans and I are a package deal these days. Makes Filch nervous if I don’t maintain a certain radius to her. He thinks I’m staging a coup.”

 

Genie giggled, but it was a bit too loud. “You’re such a laugh. You’ll, um, you’ll just have to come and find me if you spot Glynnis, yeah?”

 

“He was only kidding.” Lily added, almost immediately wishing she hadn’t.

 

A brief silence ensued, and Lily felt a sudden compulsion to fill the gap with whatever she could.

 

“Genie, I wish we could all have a proper chat, but we are just _so_ busy. Swamped. Up to our..er...ears in paperwork, and...and such.”

 

“And such?” questioned James.

 

“Indeed.” Lily bit her lip.

 

“Oh, of course. See you, Lily. Bye, James!” Genie raised a slender hand to wave and then turned on her heel.

 

No longer trusting her mouth, Lily closed her lips in the best smile she could muster. James had closed the door behind their guest and made his way back to their desk. He picked up the patrol schedules he was meant to be reviewing, giving Lily at least one whole blessed minute of sweet relief to think that he was going to let her odd behavior slide.

 

“I’ve got to say, Evans, I had no idea you felt so passionately about the Cup.”

 

 _At least he was ignoring that last bit._ The knot in her stomach began to unwind. All she had to do was act natural.

 

 _“_ I suppose I’m just full of surprises like that. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

 

James snorted. “I beg to differ. I am practically an encyclopedia on the topic of Lily Evans.”

 

Her smile relaxed.  “You are not. I should’ve never taught you what an encyclopedia was.”

 

“Sure I am! Lily Catherine Evans was born January 29th, 1960…”

 

Lily placed a palm to her chest, mock aghast. “You mean you know my _birthday_ ? _Wow_. I thought I’d take that one to the grave. You’re good.”

 

“It’s an important fact. ‘Sides, I bet you don’t know _my_ birthday.”

 

“You convinced Sir Cadogan to make it the tower’s password for nearly three weeks in fourth year, so, I do, actually—it was quite unavoidable.”

 

At that, James smirked. “I don’t recall, but that certainly sounds like something I would do.”

 

“Something annoying, you mean?” Lily grinned full on at him and he laughed.

 

“All right, all right—stop distracting me, Evans. Didn’t you hear we are up to our ears in paperwork _and such_?” His tone was mild and teasing, but that didn’t stop her cheeks from going pink.

 

“We _are_ busy,” she insisted, picking up a large stack of papers and placing them in front of him. “In fact, you can start cross checking the prefect’s schedules against the patrols we drew up yesterday. Stebbins has been practically accosting me in the corridors, claiming we are _deprioritizing_ his requests. It’s absolute bollocks and he knows it!”

 

James groaned, his chin lifting proudly. “Stebbins is a nob, agreed. So why are we going to cater to his every whim? It’s only going to make him worse. We’re ace at this, and I’ll have no one accuse us otherwise.”

 

She rolled her eyes, sighing. “I’ll not have the good name of Gryffindor slandered under our watch.”

 

“You know, your righteousness is one of my least favorite things about you.”

 

“Oh? And what else is on the list?”

 

A grin spread wide across his face, ducking quickly out of view as he leaned in front of her to scribble on a spare bit of parchment. Within a few moments, he had popped his head back and cleared his throat pointedly.

 

She read it, and immediately felt a slow creep of heat burn up her neck.

 

_My Least Favorite Things About Lily_

_Her righteousness_

_^Nothing else, that’s it. She’s perfect._

 

And with this renewed discomfort, this small flit of nerves, she backtracked.

 

“Quit buttering me up, Potter—it’s not going to get you out of checking the schedules.”

 

James gave her a funny look, one that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It only lasted a moment, though, before his usual easy manner returned. “Fine, if you want to live in a world where Stebbins wins, who am I to be the voice of reason?”

 

Not allowing herself to dignify his ribbing with a laugh, she merely allowed her lips to quirk before focusing in on the week’s patrol infractions. A few minutes lapsed in silence, both of them (in theory) lost to their work. And then−because damn it, she honestly could not help herself, Lily said:

 

“Genie’s nice, huh?”

 

James was still studying the schedule, his brows knit together. “Erm...sorry, say that again?”

 

“I was just saying how nice Genie is. Almost _too_ nice really, yeah? Like ‘oh, enough already with you’.” She paused, swallowing. “She’s just so nice, right?” _God, Lily._

 

James raised his eyes, blinking. “Oh, er yeah, Genie’s brill.”

 

She felt a swooping in her stomach.

 

_Genie’s brill._

 

_You’re perfect._

 

“You know…” She paused. “It seems she fancies you.”

 

He gave her a strange look. “Genie?”

 

Lily crossed her arms. “Don’t be daft, _of course_. She was hinting that she wants you take her to Slughorn’s.”

 

James’s eyebrows had knit together but the rest of his face was unreadable, frustratingly so.

 

He shifted in his seat, quiet. And then finally:  “You, er, you think so?”

 

“It’s quite obvious.”

 

“No, I mean—you think I should ask her?”

 

She breathed in through her nose, holding the breath in her throat for an added beat. He was watching her carefully and she was terribly conscious of the flush that she was sure would soon overtake her face.

 

She forced a smile. “ _Absolutely.”_

 

Whoever said this was the most wonderful time of the year was a right foul prat, indeed.

 

* * *

 

“Let me see if I have this straight...you told him to ask _Genie Hughes—_ tarty Genie Hughes—to Slughorn’s party?”

 

“Firstly, she is not a tart. And I was figuring that if he fancied someone else and I knew they were together, then all of this mooning over him would just...sort itself. It was all very in the moment, Mare.” “

 

“Never in the history of crushes, _ever_ , has it worked out that way.”

 

After spending the rest of her weekend in a tizzy of overanalysis and self doubt—oh, and pretty much becoming a hermit in order to avoid James—Lily had decided she was going to start Monday off on the right foot. That plan had already gone a tad awry, as she had word vomited the entire tale to her friend Mary Macdonald in the spare minutes before Potions started.

 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? Maybe I will start a trend.”

 

Lily now busied herself with setting up her cauldron and supplies, avoiding Mary’s incredulous stare.

 

Never one to be satisfied with being ignored, her friend let out a dramatic sigh. “I hope you realize that you’ve only left yourself with one option now.”

 

Lily’s eyes widened. “Mary, I am not telling him how I feel. Not after _that._ Haven’t I embarrassed myself enough?”

 

The other girl scoffed. “Course not. But you can’t just show up alone now and be the sad sack in the corner, now can you?”

 

“I would not be a sad sack—.”

 

“Miss Evans!” Professor Slughorn had swept into his classroom in his usual effusive manner, making a beeline for their table. “Very fortunate I’m seeing you first thing this morning. Do you know you’re the only guest who is yet to RSVP to the Christmas party? Now I don’t want to go dropping hints, but there may be certain special guests in attendance that I know you wouldn’t want to miss.”

 

“I’m sorry, Professor, it’s been a mad weekend.” Lily hoped her smile wasn’t as weary as she felt. “I’m definitely coming.”

 

Slughorn’s face lit up. “Ah! Excellent, silly of me to worry. I am making the final touches to our seating arrangement and I need to have everything just so for our special guests, you see? Now tell me, dear girl, who will be having the great privilege to _squire_ you to my affair?”

 

“Oh, she _will be_ squired, Professor,” piped up Mary.

 

“ _Mare—_.” warned Lily.

 

“Of course she will! And that is excellent because a good soiree is like a potion—everything in the exact right amount and you make the perfect evening. Our count will be exactly even, everyone in a pair. Symmetry is important, girls."

 

_Exactly even. Everyone in a pair._

 

Okay, so maybe she would not be starting a trend. Oh god, her chest ached. What the hell had she been thinking? All she’d had to do was keep quiet, accept that they’d be going as Heads, as _friends_ , but instead she’d made everything so, so much worse.

 

_You’re perfect._

 

_Everyone in a pair._

 

_Genie’s brill._

 

Slughorn and Mary were talking again, but her hearing felt fuzzy. What was he saying now? _Focus._

 

“An interesting choice, my dear! I have to admit I’m quite excited. Do you know I’ve invited him to the Slug Club for years and he’s never accepted?”

 

“You know, Lily was just saying how there’s a first time for everything. Right, Lil?” Mary grinned at her wickedly.

 

Lily blinked, then blinked again. _What?_ “Huh?’

 

“Miss Macdonald tells me you’ll be bringing Sirius Black to my party. First time for everything, indeed. This may just be my best party _yet_.”

 

 _Fucking_ hell.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and happy holidays, everyone! :)

 

“Let me see if I have this one straight—” James Potter’s face was, for once, wiped of its usual mirth. In fact, he looked quite annoyed. “ _You’re_ here with my best mate, and yet _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to apologize?”

 

“Prongs…” Sirius began, leaning into the table so he could see his friend.

 

“ _Stay_ out of it, Sirius.” James warned, his tone sharp.

 

“What does it matter if I’m here with Sirius?” She bit back. “What would it matter if I brought the Giant Squid as my date?”

 

“Is it just me or is she really preoccupied with the squid?”

 

“Shut _up_ , Black.”

 

“I’m just saying,” the other boy mumbled back, mouth full of trifle, “—it’s probably single, if you really fancy it _that_ much. Slim pickins in the lake, I’d gather.”

 

Lily was about to retort when James cut in, his voice strained. “I need some air.”

 

He stood from the table, shoving his chair in forcefully before heading off in the direction of the balcony. Thea’s face looked pinched, the small girl mouthing a silent “sorry” at Lily.

 

Lily slumped back miserably in her chair, crossing her arms and fixing the boy at her left with a stern glare.

 

“See, _now_ it feels like Christmas.” Sirius grinned at her, stuffing another large spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Was much too cheerful before.”

 

She groaned, wondering—certainly not for the first time that evening—how the _hell_ she had gotten here. Ah, yes:  Mary _bloody_ Macdonald.

-

-

-

It had been two days prior when Mary had informed Slughorn that Sirius Black would be attending the Christmas party as her date. Quite unfortunately for Lily, the denial hadn’t had the chance to pass her lips before Severus Snape had entered the dungeon. And for as much as Lily could stomach, and ignore, and mentally compartmentalize when it came to her former friend, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—find it in herself to sit passively and be made a fool in front of him.

 

Which, of course, meant that she also allowed herself to be coerced into meeting Mary in the library that afternoon, where her friend was supposedly due to meet Sirius Black for a study session (yes, it seemed quite suspicious to Lily, too). And so being quite practical, and with her options being as limited as they were, she had dutifully shown up in the back corner of the library (again, quite suspicious) that Mary had deemed was their meet-up spot.

 

Surprisingly, both key members of their party were already there when she arrived. Even more surprisingly, Sirius Black let out a loud bark of laughter when he saw her.

 

“Evans, don’t tell me you’re getting in on our little arrangement? I s’pose we could work something out.” He drummed his fingers against his chin in mock consideration. “Come, sit with us.”

 

Eyeing him warily, Lily chose a chair across from the table where Mary and Sirius sat. “Mare, what is he talking about?”

 

“No, no, Lily’s not here for that.” Mary explained quickly. “She’s just here because I happen to be an excellent friend, _and_ —because I’m so excellent—have decided to forfeit my end of the bargain this month in exchange for a favor for her. I’m very selfless like that.”

 

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes, choosing instead to narrow them at her friend. “Okay, now what are _you_ on about? What bargain?”

 

Neither chose to answer her, and instead continued to talk amongst themselves.

 

“So, Evans needs a favor?” He paused and then drew his next word out. “ _Interesting_.”

 

There was a distinctly devious look forming on Sirius Black’s face, and Lily did not like it. She did not like it _one bit_.

 

“Yes,” Mary confirmed. “But _only_ for this month. Next month, the usual rules apply.”

 

“And what, exactly, are the usual rules?” Lily piped up, her eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

 

Sirius turned to give her a once over before swiveling back to Mary. “She’s not going to make this enjoyable, is she?”

 

Mary shook her head. “Not-uh. She’s already got her knickers in a twist, so I’m getting the better end of the deal this month.” She shrugged. “Best wishes, though. Godspeed.”

 

Lily leaned forward, waving one of her arms out so it cut a line between their table. “Hell-o! Yes, me here...person you’re talking about. _What_ is the deal?”

 

Mary looked expectantly at Sirius, who seemed more than happy to serve as their spokesman.

 

“It’s simple, really—Macdonald gives me all of her Arithmancy notes and I, in turn, deliver one bottle of mead to her per month.”

 

Mary was nodding. “Yep. But no self-respecting daughter of one of London’s finest barristers would enter into such an agreement without a contract. And the contract stipulates that if either of us has fulfilled our half that month but doesn’t presently need the usual services of their partner, they are allowed to dictate the terms for a substitute favor.”

 

“Within reason.” Sirius amended. “She can’t just go demanding I snog her if she’s feeling randy one month.”

 

Mary rolled her eyes. “This happened _once_ after Marcus and I split last year. Once! He acts like I’m asking every bloody month. And for the record, he happily indulged.”

 

“You told me you would _sue_ _—_.”

 

“We both know I can’t _actually_ sue you.”

 

“You know,” Lily cut in. “ As Head Girl, I feel obliged to tell you that you really shouldn’t be telling me any of this.”

 

Sirius smirked at her. “And as the bloke you’re currently asking to do you a favor, I feel obliged to tell _you_ that favors usually involve a fair bit more arse kissing and a bit less stodgy threats.”

 

“But I’m not asking for the favor, now, am I? Mary is.” Poker faced, Lily crossed both her arms and legs and leaned back fully into her chair. “And because _Mary_ is asking for the favor, she can explain it. God knows I can’t.”

 

At this, Mary grinned. “Oh, I’ll happily explain it. You see, Lily here needs a suitably enviable date to Slughorn’s Christmas shindig and you, darling, happen to be perfect for the role.”

 

“Firstly, thank you for agreeing that I’m enviable.” Sirius began. “And secondly...don’t the Heads usually preside over these gatherings together? Lording their superiority over their underlings and whatnot?”

 

“James has a date.” Mary clarified.

 

“Yea, but it’s not—.” Sirius paused abruptly here, angling himself fully toward Lily and regarding her carefully. HIs eyes were still mischievous, but his smile was suddenly rather...pleasant?

 

“Does it _bother_ you that Prongs has a date?” He was still watching her ever so carefully, and it was making Lily very uncomfortable.

 

Praying her cheeks wouldn’t betray her, she answered emphatically. “ _No_ , of course not.” A pause, and then: “He can do what he pleases.”

 

His smile widened. “You know, Evans, under normal circumstances I would feel inclined to tell you I’d rather wax Snivellus’s nose hairs than have to endure an entire evening of Sluggy crawling up his own arse, but…” He held up a finger. “These aren’t normal circumstances. And because these aren’t normal circumstances, and because I don’t want Mary to sue me—” (Mary sighed) “I am, in fact, _delighted_ to go.”

-

-

-

A true testament to Lily’s holiday luck this year, the party had been a disaster from the start.

 

First, there was the theme:  The Twelve Days of Christmas. It turned out that Slughorn had taken this year’s theme quite literally, arranging for every element in the song to appear in its physical form. In fact, upon entering, she and Sirius had each been offered a small pear tree by a house elf called Featherby.

 

“To give to your true love on Christmas!” Featherby had informed them. “Please don’t tell Professor Slughorn that I couldn’t secure all the partridges on short notice.”

 

Sirius had, in turn, cackled.

 

“What if you sort of fancy several people at the moment, but don’t want to tell any of them lest it squander your chances? Is there a favor option for that? Five golden rings, perhaps?”

 

“Just fucking take the tree,” Lily had hissed in his ear.

 

How the partridges had been the only issue, Lily wasn’t quite sure. For, in one corner of the room there were, indeed, eight women taking turns milking a cow, and in another was a group of poshly dressed men leaping from side to side. Less impressively, Slughorn had seemed to convince nine veela to dance in the center of the room (all nine of which Sirius would chat up). Two turtle doves and four calling birds were flying around, also, one of which seemed hell bent on irritating her by perching on her shoulder every few minutes and squawking loudly in her ear. Merlin, between the ten drummers and eleven men playing the bagpipes, wasn’t it already loud enough?

 

And speaking of hell bent on irritating her...secondly, there was Sirius’s general presence.

 

Slughorn, naturally, had nearly wet himself when he saw the pair of them cross the room together. He had hurried over and clasped Lily’s hand, clearly delighted to have finally secured the eldest Black brother at one of his events.

 

“My dear, you’ve done it! Lured him out of hiding, didn’t you? Only Lily Evans could accomplish such a feat.” Grinning from ear-to-ear, he had then focused his attention on Sirius. “And you, Mr. Black, I trust that you’re enjoying your evening—surely, with such a charming lady on your arm.”

 

“One of your birds just shat on me.” Her date had replied mildly.

 

Thirdly, there was Mary. Mary, who—not even twenty minutes into the party—had rushed over to her, gesticulating wildly.

 

“Did you see them?” She shrieked.

 

Lily had eyed her friend calmly, and promptly thrown back her entire glass of eggnog. “Nope.”

 

“Over there—next to the French hen.”

 

“Yes, I know, my date that you so selflessly secured for me is chatting up not just one, but two—two!—of the veela right now.”

 

The other girl groaned. “Not that hen, the other!”

 

“There are three of them, Mary! Which one?”

 

“Under the golden rings! Do you see them?”

 

Then there was Genie Hughes. Genie Hughes, who was standing under five decorative golden rings, glowing like a little Christmas angel. Genie Hughes, who was linked by arms with Tim Davies.

 

“That little tart brought Tim with her! Do you think they’re back together?”

 

“ _What_?” Lily hissed. “Why isn’t she here with James?”

 

“James is bringing Thea..” Sirius had apparently stopped talking to his new veela friends and had chosen that particular moment to pop up behind Lily and Mary, throwing an arm casually over each of their shoulders. “When she found out Glynnis Griffiths was coming, she begged him to tag along. Why would he be here with Hughes?”

 

“Wait a _fucking_ second,” Lily turned her head sharply toward him. “You knew this?”

 

“Of course,” replied Sirius, grinning. “Didn’t you?”

 

Lastly, and worstly, there was James Potter. James Potter, who showed up thirty minutes late. James Potter, who showed up thirty minutes late and most certainly _not_ accompanied by Genie Hughes but instead with the third year Gryffindor seeker, Thea Goodwin.

 

James Potter, who was making his way over to them presently, looking increasingly baffled. When he reached them, he directed his attention immediately to Sirius.

 

“Padfoot, blink twice if Slughorn has Imperiused you, three times if you’ve been kidnapped against your will.”

 

“Neither, mate. Evans here asked me to come as her date.”

 

Mercifully, Slughorn chose this moment to ring the bell for dinner.

-

-

-

Somewhat ironically, the only thing that made dinner even slightly tolerable was the presence of Glynnis Griffiths, who regaled the table with an admittedly fascinating play-by-play from the Harpies’ infamous seven-day match against the Heidelberg Harriers. Mostly, though, Lily found herself alternating between sliding her plate away from Sirius—who seemed to think it his right as her date to share her meal—and subtly (at least she hoped) watching James, who had been moodily stabbing food with his utensils for the majority of the meal.

 

_What right did he have for being so sulky, anyway? He wasn’t the one who had lost most of their dignity and at least half their potatoes to Sirius Black, now was he?_

 

In fact, the more Lily thought about it, the more put out she felt about the whole situation. _Why the hell wasn’t he here with Genie?_

 

Luckily, she possessed enough self control and forethought to restrain herself from putting such thoughts into words (or, if she were to put them into words, at least express them in an eloquent and nuanced fashion). And if Sirius hadn’t spiked the eggnog, she probably would’ve.

 

“Why the hell aren’t you here with Genie?” she whispered.

 

“ _Excuse_ me?” James dropped his fork, and it clattered against his plate.

 

Her face flushed. “You...you said you were going to ask Genie to come with you.”

 

He inhaled sharply. “No,” he clarified, “I asked if _you_ thought I should ask Genie, and _you_ said yes. I never said I was actually going to.”

 

“You implied—.” Lily hadn’t meant for her voice to get so loud, but clearly it had jumped up an octave, as Thea—on James’s other side—had turned her attention away from Glynnis to watch them. She immediately lowered her tone. “You _implied_ that you were going to.”

 

“What exactly do you want from me here, _Evans_?”

 

Though James still occasionally called her by her last name in jest, it had been ages since he’d said it like _that_. This, of course, only poured gasoline onto Lily’s mood.

 

“What do _I_ want? I want for you to not mislead me, how about that?”

 

“Let me see if I have this one straight—” James Potter’s face was, for once, wiped of its usual mirth. In fact, he looked quite annoyed. “ _You’re_ here with my best mate, and yet _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to apologize?”

 

“Prongs…” Sirius began, leaning into the table so he could see his friend.

 

“ _Stay_ out of it, Sirius.” James warned, his tone sharp.

 

“What does it matter if I’m here with him?” She bit back. “What would it matter if I brought the Giant Squid as my date?”

 

“Is it just me or is she really preoccupied with the squid?”

 

“Shut _up_ , Black.”

 

“I’m just saying,” the other boy mumbled back, mouth full of trifle, “—it’s probably single, if you really fancy it _that_ much. Slim pickins in the lake, I’d gather.”

 

Lily was about to retort when James cut in, his voice strained. “I need some air.”

 

He stood from the table, shoving his chair in forcefully before heading off in the direction of the balcony. Thea’s face looked pinched, the small girl mouthing a silent “sorry” at Lily.

 

Lily slumped back miserably in her chair, crossing her arms and fixing the boy at her left with a stern glare.

 

“See, _now_ it feels like Christmas.” Sirius grinned at her, stuffing another large spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Was much too cheerful before.”

 

She groaned.

 

_How the hell had she gotten here? Bloody Macdonald._

 

It crossed her mind briefly to lean over and give Mary—seated on the other side of Sirius with her date, Calvin Wells—a piece of her mind. She swiftly changed her mind when she saw that Mary was glaring daggers over at Genie and Tim, while Calvin watched her, arms crossed and face stony.

 

If it was true that misery loved company, she was definitely on the right side of the table.

 

Sirius cleared his throat pointedly and, when she ignored it the first two times, cleared it once again.

 

“ _What_?”

 

He leaned down under the table, disappearing for a moment, and rose back up with the small pear tree Featherby had gifted to them.

 

“Take it, Evans.” He placed it into her lap. “Your partridge has flown the coop, but he really is just partial to a dramatic exit. I’m sure you can coax him back.”

 

Lily stiffened, raising her chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about—.”

 

“ _Evans_ ,” he sang, “You’re about as subtle as the eggnog.” He paused, and it looked like he was weighing something in his mind. “I have a story for you. A lesson of sorts.”

 

She groaned. “ _Wonderful_.”

 

“Hush, Evans, I’m trying to be wise. So, back in fifth year, Cassandra Phillips pushed me—I mean actually shoved, mind you—into a broom closet and snogged the living hell out of me.”

 

“Wow, thank you. This is so illuminating.”

 

“Evans,” he warned. “ _Listen._ So I felt immediately guilty about it after, and I went straight to James. Cassandra was his girlfriend in fourth year. That’s strictly against mate code, you know? But—and now here’s where you should really listen because it’s important..Evans?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face.

 

“I’m _listening_.”

 

“Of course you are, I’m very interesting. Anyway, so I confessed it to James and, lo and behold, he couldn’t have cared less.” He paused. “Now, tell me, Evans, why do you think James didn’t mind that I had basically broken sacred mate code and snogged his first girlfriend?”

 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Because they dated for, like, three weeks when they were practically prepubescent. That’s barely a blip on the radar.”

 

“Precisely!” He cried, pointing a finger at her. “But you know what else should be a blip on the radar, at least to any sane and reasonable person?”

 

“What?”

 

“Me coming to a stupid party with you, a bird he has never dated—not for three weeks, or two weeks—hell, not for a single day. And yet, there he is, sulking out on the balcony like a sad little moppet.”

 

_But...no. It couldn’t be. They were together constantly. If it were that obvious, she would know. She’d have to. She wouldn’t have missed it._

 

She looked down at the pear tree and then quickly back up at Sirius, who was looking as straight faced as she’d ever seen him. Before she could change her mind, she shoved the tree back at him.

 

“Save it for one of your veela.” She stood then, resolute. “No more gimmicks, I need to do it my way.”

 

“Thatta girl, Evans.”

-

-

-

James was out on the balcony alone, his back to her when she walked outside.

 

“Hi,” she announced lamely. “It’s...err...it’s me. The person you’re hiding from.”

 

He turned, letting out a large breath of air, and she wasn’t expecting him to launch straight into it, but he’d apparently had enough.

 

“I don’t know why it’s always like this with us..I-I want to say one thing, but then I don’t say it, or I _do_ say it and I don’t say it how I meant it...or...or I do something and I think you’ll see it one way, but then you _don’t_ ….it’s — god, Lily, it’s _so_ damn frustrating.”

 

She walked over to the railing then, coming to stand on his right and gripping her hands against the rail. She looked up at him. “I...I suppose we could try to be more direct. For both our sakes.”

 

His mouth was still set in a line, but his brows had relaxed. “All right.” He paused. “Lily...do you—and to be totally clear, I s’pose I don’t think you do, but perhaps—.”

 

“ _James_.”

 

“Do you fancy Sirius?”

 

“No,” she answered emphatically, chuckling. “Sometimes, I think I may hate him, actually.”

 

He laughed, too. “That’s...that’s good.”

 

_Ask him now. Go on. Before you lose your will._

 

“Do you fancy Genie Hughes?”

 

A small smile was playing on his lips. “Definitely not. Genie’s very nice, but no. Why, er, why would you think that?”

 

“In the interest of being direct, I’d say that’s the wrong question.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“The right question would be, ‘Why do you care whether I fancy her or not, Lily?’”

 

He looked straight into her eyes, and it suddenly felt like all the blood was rushing up to her face. “That _is_ a good question.”

 

“Indeed,” she demurred. _Coward, Lily. Just say it. Just say--._

 

His voice broke into her thoughts. “I was very disappointed when you said you couldn’t make it to our New Year’s party, you know.”

 

Her brows furrowed. “Oh, well—” This change in track had set things off kilter. “I _wanted_ to come, but my sister just got engaged to this horrible man and they’re hosting what will probably be a terribly dreadful party that night. I would skip, but she never really invites me to much these days, and it would be awful to leave Mum alone with his family. Would be like feeding her to the wolves really—like, his sister might actually eat her if I’m not there to prevent it.”

 

“Understandable. Cannibalism does put a damper on the holidays.” He was grinning. “I did have this plan, though. But you would need to be _at_ the party to execute it properly. You’re very crucial to the plan.”

 

“I am?”

 

“Yes, you’re very crucial to most things.” He didn’t continue immediately, looking straight out into the night sky for several moments. When he finally did begin speaking again, he kept his eyes averted. “I was going to get very drunk—this was Sirius’s contribution to the plan, but I was rather keen on it, too—and then I was going to find somewhere quiet for us to talk. And _then_ ...I s’pose I was just going to drunkenly blurt out everything I have always wanted to tell you. And I figured that, you know, if I wasn’t quite in my right mind, then it just may have a chance of coming out like I wanted it to for once. That getting to spend so much time with you this year has been more than I could’ve even hoped for. That...that you’re lovely, and _wonderful_ , and so very much out of my league, really. And if you’d just give me the chance to prove to you I could be better, because we just _fit_ , Lily—.”

 

“James?” She was staring up at him intently now, and her interruption had finally caused him to look down at her.

 

“Yes?”

 

“This seems like a lot of steps. At what point were you finally going to just buck up and kiss me?”

 

He swallowed hard, and she could see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Er...well, at midnight, ‘course.”

 

“I know you had this grand plan and all, but I was thinking....how do you feel about 10:40?”

 

“10:40?”

 

“Yes, 10:40. It may be 10:39, but I can’t really see Slughorn’s clock properly from here.” She paused, smiling. “As in, you know, _now_.”

 

“ _Now_? What about now?”

 

“Oh _god_. We really need to work on our communication.” But the words had barely passed her lips before she stood on her toes and cupped her palms around his warm cheeks, pressing her mouth to his.

 

It was gentle, and sweet, and not nearly long enough for either of them. Nevertheless, Lily was grinning victoriously when she pulled away.

 

“Happy same year, James.”

 

He laughed--that wonderful, wonderful laugh of his that was so very impossible not to adore.

 

“Happy same year, Lily.”

 

And before she had any time to revel in her own courage, and in just how well they truly _did_ fit, he had backed her fully against the railing and now _he_ was the one doing the kissing. And the time for thoughts—at least coherent ones—was most certainly over.

 

And perhaps his laugh wasn’t the best thing about James Potter after all.

 

Indeed, December of 1977 had not been particularly swell for Lily Evans. But January of 1978 was looking better and better by the minute.


End file.
